


junmyeon's room

by R612



Category: EXO (Band)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-22
Updated: 2018-04-22
Packaged: 2019-04-26 05:11:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,721
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14395002
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/R612/pseuds/R612
Summary: A lot happens in Junmyeon's room that night.





	junmyeon's room

**Author's Note:**

> this story will not make sense if you haven't read my sns au on twitter...
> 
> thank you shay for being my beta reader ♡

_The number you have called is currently unavailable—_

Kyungsoo let out a frustrated breath, tossing his phone back behind him as the dial tone zoned out into complete silence.

He sat on the edge of Junmyeon’s bed in the dull darkness; the dim light from the night sky flowing in through the window being the only guide for his inebriated self. His shaky hands run through his quaffed hair; body following the motion as he falls back against the blankets of the bed.

Eyes staring up at the ceiling, Kyungsoo swallowed dryly; his heart pounding hard against his chest.

He made a mistake.

He’s been doing that a lot lately, but this time, he wasn’t quite sure if it _really_ was a mistake.

_“No, I want Chanyeol,”_

Yeah, he clearly said that. And Yifan was out the door as soon as the words reached him, and the regret settled inside Kyungsoo. Though, the regret wasn’t as clear as the name he called out for—did he regret saying another man’s name? Or did he regret the fact that he meant to call it out?

The thoughts swirl and linger in his head, even as he made several attempts to call Yifan. He didn’t know what he was going to say—what excuse could he blame the situation on? Or if he just wanted to be seen making an attempt to explain—he just decided it was best to call Yifan and let the words spill out. Go from there—be spontaneous.

It’s what Chanyeol had taught him for the better part of his life.

He knew it wasn’t the best habit; he is where he is because of the spontaneity, but maybe that was just life running its course. That, or a part of him didn’t want to lose one of the things that he learnt from Chanyeol.

Life became a little uncertain for him once he and Chanyeol got divorced. Because while there were so many things that went well and was set in stone in his life, Kyungsoo believed the only one worth believing in was that Chanyeol would always be by his side, as he was by his.

That obviously was not the case.

Kyungsoo turned his head to the side; his phone unlocked and still on Yifan’s contact details. He probably thought it was better to chase after him before the older man closed the bedroom door, but he hesitated to.

And that moment of hesitation gave him his decision to just stay.

He didn’t want to beg or make a scene—not when there are so many guests downstairs. And as an extension of that, he also maybe didn’t want to influence Yifan to forgive him—especially when he himself wasn’t sure if he was worth forgiving.

In retrospect, that was probably why he signed the divorce papers. Why would Chanyeol file if he didn’t mean to? Was it just a big joke? Kyungsoo would’ve begged, but that night—the night they spent apart for the first time ever since they became _one_ —gave him clarity.

_“I won’t beg him to not do this because then we’d be stuck.”_

Chanyeol wasn’t listening, neither was Kyungsoo—communication between them broke that night and it was better to be free than to be dormant.

It hurt so much though, and Kyungsoo didn’t stop crying after it was finalised.

And rather being sad over the fact it was over, he was more upset over _how_.

How did they let it get so bad?

And also, _why_ did it have to end this way?

Thinking back on it now though, and over the past few years, Kyungsoo learned that if given the chance to go back to that night, he probably would’ve said the same thing.

 _“I don’t want children. Please, I don’t want them.”_ And he still doesn’t. Was it selfish? In Kyungsoo’s mind, he didn’t think so. But it sure did feel like he was, and they were young and peaking in their respective careers—it wasn’t that he thought a child would ruin that, it would just make life harder.

He knew that their careers or the child would be the one to suffer. Chanyeol’s lifelong passion—Kyungsoo’s newfound purpose; he knew they couldn’t give it their all if there was a child. And a child; impressionable and precious—it would live in a world where its parents couldn’t give it their full attention.

There was no need for a child to be in an unhappy childhood. And what use was it if Kyungsoo was unhappy; taking care of a child he didn’t want? Or Chanyeol, giving up everything he worked hard for to raise the child? And there was also Sehun and Jongin—if Chanyeol left, what would happen to them?

And the fans, would they understand? Would they hate Kyungsoo for not giving his attention to the child as much as Chanyeol would? Would they hate him for throwing all the responsibilities onto Chanyeol?

Too many negative factors.

Too many.

And Kyungsoo wasn’t ready. He still isn’t, and he’s sure he never will be. Not even if he got all the reassurance from Chanyeol or from anyone, that they’d be okay.

Some people are born to be parents, and Kyungsoo just wasn’t one of them. He knows it.

Should he be punished for that? Should he be berated and called selfish for not wanting that? Especially if the child—adopted or otherwise, had the possibility of being loved by two parents that can give it all the care and attention in the world.

He doesn’t hate children. He just doesn’t want any.

But various romance movies later had told him that _if you love them, you’d change for them_ so there _must_ have been something wrong with him—“ _why can’t I change for him? Do I really love him then?”_

But then he countered those thoughts.

 _“If he loved me, then why didn’t he change for me?”_ Kyungsoo found himself saying over and over again, until it didn’t matter anymore.

They were done, who cares.

What use were those thoughts now?

Kyungsoo picked up his phone, thumb hovering over the _call_ button next to Yifan’s name. He looked at the time on top—it had only been just over five minutes since Yifan left him in Junmyeon’s room.

He decides to not call again, at least, not now. Instead, he exits the contact and flicks through his apps until he sees his photo album. There were photos of him and Yifan—some of Baekhyun when he stole his phone and took a lot of selfies; there were also a few of him with Sehun and Jongin too.

Smiling, happy, content.

But as he continued to scroll up, Chanyeol started appearing. Blurry photos—photos of their food—and also the one he took himself of Chanyeol naked and sleeping and sprawled out like star in between the sheets.

A different kind of happiness and content filled Kyungsoo’s chest.

And he felt his dick twitch in response.

He locked his phone, arms dropping down by his side with his phone falling out of his grasp. He was suddenly hyper aware of his breathing, his blinking, and the dull noise of the music booming from downstairs.

Kyungsoo had only spoke to Chanyeol twice the whole night; the first time was when he arrived with Sehun and Jongin—a typical greeting, and the second time being Chanyeol asking him if he ate― said out of courtesy, if anything.

And then his vision began to blur.

He was so damn lonely.

Kyungsoo began to palm his eyes strongly, as if trying to push back the tears that threatened to fall. He was sad, distressed and lonely and he suddenly felt his chest tighten at the thought: _anyone will do—anyone but him._

And Yifan was just _anyone_.

Pathetic.

Kyungsoo felt pathetic. He felt pathetic and disgusted with himself.

His top teeth dug deeply into his bottom lip like some sort of pain punishment; or maybe some kind of relief from the hurt in his chest.

“Stupid, stupid, _stupid_ …” He muttered to himself, sniffling loudly as he tried to calm himself before he could let it all go.

He hates crying; he’s cried too much already.

When Chanyeol told Sehun the reason.

When Chanyeol said he’d change for him.

When Chanyeol wanted to be someone to him.

Chanyeol, Chanyeol, Chanyeol…

Was there really ever a day spent not thinking about him? Was there ever a day where his chest wasn’t full of happiness or sadness when it came to him? Was there ever a day where Kyungsoo spent hours thinking about the past and wondering about the future?

He can’t remember, and soon, Kyungsoo’s life split into two—life with Chanyeol and life without him. And in all honesty, as of late, Kyungsoo’s forgotten how he managed three whole years without him.

It was so scary how easily Kyungsoo fell back in with Chanyeol. 

Back into their dynamic.

Back into his life.

Back into his bed.

How many apologies do they need to say until it’s okay? And _truly_ okay?

Suddenly, the door creaked open, and Kyungsoo sat up so fast, his head spun and the urge to puke fell strong.

“Chanyeol?” He called out before thinking, holding his head as if it to hold it in place, the dizziness causing his stomach to coil.

“Junmyeon.” The voice replied. “Sorry. I got you some water.”

Junmyeon let himself into his room, closing the door gently behind him. Kyungsoo brushed his hair back and swallowed what little salvia he had left in his mouth as Junmyeon walked over to the bedside table. He gingerly placed the bottled water down before turning on the lampshade.

“I’d ask how you’re feeling, but it looks pretty obvious to me.” Junmyeon spoke softly, sitting next to Kyungsoo on the edge of the bed.

And then they sat in silence.

Both of them weren’t going to pretend they don’t know what Junmyeon came into the room for, but also, Kyungsoo doesn’t know if he feels like talking about it.

Scratch that, he _does_ know that he doesn’t want to talk about it to Junmyeon especially.

Not because he’s his boss, but because Kyungsoo’s embarrassed.

He’s embarrassed and ashamed, and Junmyeon had been so kind—so lenient, and had found so much potential in Kyungsoo when they first got him signed onto Suho Entertainment—is a disappointing person in real life.

He hates how he looks, and he feels like right now, he looks pitiful.

_Do Kyungsoo, an excellent actor who can’t keep his personal affairs in check, thus ruining his career before it could truly take off._

“Take a sip of water,” Junmyeon suggests, breaking Kyungsoo out of his thoughts.

Kyungsoo snaps his head up to look at his hyung before looking at the bottled water. “I’m okay.”

“I know.” Junmyeon said. “Even if you’re not, I know you’ll just say you’re okay.”

“I am, though.” Kyungsoo insisted. Junmyeon smiled, heaving himself back to his feet. “Please don’t worry about me.”

“I’ll always worry about you, Kyungsoo.” Junmyeon began pacing around his room, rummaging through his drawers. He pulls out a shirt and some sweatpants. “Ever since we first met, I was worried about you. I felt like I shouldn’t have scouted you from the street when you came into the office that day. I felt like I made you uncomfortable.”

“I was fine,” Kyungsoo reassures, recalling the memory.

Junmyeon closes his drawer, slinging the clothes over his shoulder before leaning against it. “I know.” He smiles again. “And I know you really were, because I then remember you telling me you were married. It made me feel like that maybe I didn’t pressure you into signing, because you had someone who supported and loved you.”

 _Loves_ , Kyungsoo unintentionally corrects in his mind.

“I stopped worrying after I found out. Someone was taking care of you while you went down this path and as you know, it’s not an easy one.” Junmyeon said. “No path really, is ever easy though. But you had that support, so I stopped worrying. Until you didn’t. And then I never stopped ever again.”

Junmyeon started fiddling with the cuffs of his shirt, “And I think that was one of my biggest regrets? Not as your boss, but as your friend. Because before anything, I consider you as a friend, Kyungsoo. And I created a relationship with you where I stopped worrying so I stopped asking how things were with you and him until you and him were no longer _you_ and _him_.”

“I wish you came to me before you got divorced.” Junmyeon said.

“Please don’t blame yourself.” Kyungsoo quickly said, “I did what I did all on my own. It’s no one else’s fault but my own. It was my burden to bear and no one else’s.”

“That’s where you’re wrong, Kyungsoo-ah.” Junmyeon gently denied. “The thing about caring about other people is that you want to help shoulder their problems too. It’s what friends do. Not as a favour, but as a responsibility. Or at least, that’s how I define friendships. I hate that you thought you had to do this all on your own. I hate that you felt like you couldn’t come to me for help.”

“I’m sorry.” Kyungsoo said, but more out of astonishment and shame. Junmyeon had these thoughts all along?

“Baekhyun and Jongdae worry about you too.” Junmyeon walked back over to the bed, sitting down next to Kyungsoo again. “They come to me a lot and talk about you, how they worry about you and wish you could talk to them. They may not have been there for when it happened, and they may not have known everything at the time, but they like you a lot, Kyungsoo. And they care a lot about you too.”

Kyungsoo stayed quiet. What could he say to that? Sorry again? It was better said to Baekhyun and Jongdae—again. He will apologise to them again.

“I’m not expecting you to tell me what happened tonight with Yifan,” Junmyeon started, making Kyungsoo’s heart thump. “Or why you thought Chanyeol was coming back—“

“Back?” Kyungsoo interrupted.

Junmyeon sighed, “He left early. Said he wasn’t feeling well.”

“Oh.”

“But anyway, I want you to sleep here tonight, okay?” Junmyeon handed Kyungsoo the clothes he picked out. “Change into these, take a breather and some rest. And when you’re ready, come back home to the office and we can talk. Or not talk at all. But just know we’ll all listen. Anyone of us will listen, because you don’t have to be alone anymore. Or think that you are, because you’re not, okay?”

“Okay.” Kyungsoo nodded once.

“Okay. Get some sleep if you can and I’ll see you tomorrow.” Junmyeon gave Kyungsoo one final smile, squeezing his shoulder before leaving the room.

Kyungsoo sat there for a moment, shirt and sweats in his hands as he gave himself a moment to process Junmyeon’s words.

He then breathed in deeply before getting up to get changed in Junmyeon’s en suite—maybe also wash his face and clear his head.

It couldn’t have been any longer than a few minutes in the en suite when he heard the door open again. He was in the middle of changing out of his dress shirt and pants, so by the time he was in Junmyeon’s clothes, whoever had entered the room had left already.

Kyungsoo’s brows knitted together in suspicion—he quickly walked over to the door and opened it, peering out into the hallway.

It was empty.

He then closed the door and headed back to lie down on the bed when he noticed his phone was unlocked. Upon inspecting it further, it was on Chanyeol’s contact details.

The unsettling feeling that it was Yifan, he who knew the simplistic passcode, was the one who entered the room, made Kyungsoo’s stomach turn. And other than the fact that there’s the possibility that Yifan nicked Chanyeol’s number, there was also the high possibility that Yifan also saw _that_ photo of him.

Kyungsoo let himself flop down onto Junmyeon’s bed—the thought of sinking into the mattress and never coming out became immensely appealing to him.

He knew he should just go to sleep; think about all the problems and all the negative thoughts tomorrow since it’s been plaguing him for the lesser part of the hour. But then, would he really be able to get any sleep?

Rolling onto his back, Kyungsoo decides to try and call Yifan one more time.

One more time to try and explain something he wasn’t sure he could even explain, and if there was no answer, he’d give up. Yifan not answering would make everything clear on where they stand, and how hurt he was that Kyungsoo wanted someone else.

Yifan picked up.

And there was just silence; Kyungsoo froze—or rather, his words did. But he knew if he didn’t say anything, he’d never be able to say anything at all.

That, and Yifan could just hang up.

So Kyungsoo said, “I’m—“

“No.” Yifan interrupted. Kyungsoo felt sick.

“Yifan—“

“I mean, _no_.” Yifan sighed, “Don’t apologise.”

“But… I am sorry.” Kyungsoo said; voice so small, he wasn’t sure if Yifan could even hear him.

“Really?” Yifan asked, sounding sarcastic, before he backtracked and said, “Sorry. I mean, I know you’re sorry. But you don’t have to apologise. It’s fine.”

“It’s not.”

“You’re right, it’s not.” Yifan agreed. “But it’s my fault.”

“Not you too.” Kyungsoo unintentionally said.

“What do you mean?”

Kyungsoo covered his eyes as if Yifan could see his shame through the phone, “It’s… You’re just… everyone’s been blaming themselves instead of me. I’m the one with all the issues and causing all the problems yet no one’s… giving me fault.” He explained.

“Do you want people to blame you?” Yifan asked. “Do you want to take full responsibility of the actions of other people?”

“You did nothing wrong though.”

“You’re probably right.” Yifan said. “But neither did you. So you don’t—you didn’t have to apologise.”

“You’re… hurt, aren’t you?” Kyungsoo felt weird asking that, but Yifan wasn’t being clear. Or maybe he just was not understanding the conversation—he wasn’t exactly _sober_ , or at least, as sober as he’d like to have been.

“I am.” Yifan said. “But I’m not about to blame you for that.”

“Yifan, it’s literally my fault.” Kyungsoo’s voice found stability, not sure where Yifan was going with this. “I hurt you, so therefore, I’m to blame. So I don’t understand why you’re saying you won’t—“

“I mean, I’m not blaming you for still being in love with Chanyeol.” Yifan finally said. “You can’t help it. And I’m hurt because I started to really like someone who wasn’t ready to like anyone else besides—well, you know. So it’s my fault. I knew you wouldn’t… get over him. And even though it sucks and I’m hurt, I did say it was okay.”

“What… was okay?”

“That it was okay if you found that you were still in love with him.”

_I just called his name. That doesn’t mean anything…_

“Don’t feel sorry for me, Kyungsoo, I’ll live.” Yifan said, and they both heard how unconvincing he sounded, but was it really worth trying to comfort him? Was it appropriate for Kyungsoo to lick a wound he created?

So instead, he said, “Your debut…”

“I’d still like for us to at least have a professional relationship.” Yifan said, a little more genuine. “Your voice would really help me out.”

“I’m sorry, again.” Kyungsoo mumbled. “I didn’t mean to…”

Yifan hummed, “Didn’t mean to what?”

“I didn’t mean to call his name.”

“Is that what you’re really sorry for?” Yifan asked. “Look, I’ve gotta make another call, so… So I guess I’ll see you around?”

“Yeah, yeah okay.” Kyungsoo said, hanging up before he could apologise again.

What _was_ he sorry for?

And as the room filled with silence once more, Kyungsoo stopped thinking. His mind was clear—calm all of a sudden. And his heart was at ease.

Eventually, he began to tuck himself under the blankets, head hurried in deep against the soft pillows. He stared up at the ceiling again before rolling onto his side and deciding to drift off to sleep.

 

* * *

 

And when Kyungsoo woke up, a hand was pressed against his cheek; soft lips leaving his own.

 

* * *

 

Chanyeol’s heart stopped as Kyungsoo slowly stirred awake from his sleep. He was sweaty and out of breath—but the moment he slipped into Junmyeon’s room, unnoticed by the intoxicated house guests, he fell steady in all sense of the word.

Kyungsoo had been fast asleep, blanket covering up over his shoulders with hair sticking up in all different directions.

And Chanyeol couldn’t help but think, _“Shit, I really am in love with him.”_ And it didn’t make any sense because he was just _sleeping_ but his heart fluttered and his chest grew full with affection and before he knew it, he was kneeling down in front of Kyungsoo, hand on a puffy cheek and lips pressed against heart shaped ones.

And like in the movies, Kyungsoo stirred awake from his slumber, and Chanyeol remembered the feeling of the first time watching him wake the morning after they got married.

“…Yeol?” Kyungsoo, disorientated from sleep, asked, moving his head back as if to take a better look at Chanyeol.

“Hi.” Chanyeol said like he hadn’t just kissed him.

“What are you doing here?” Kyungsoo rubbed his eye, “Junmyeon said… he said you left.”

“Well, I came back.” Chanyeol stated.

“Why?”

“Because you called for me.”

Kyungsoo snapped out of his dream state and groggily lifted himself up to lean his back against the headboard of the bed.

“Go home, Chanyeol.” Kyungsoo said, “I didn’t mean to call you.”

“Can I kiss you?” Chanyeol lied his head down on the bed next to Kyungsoo’s thigh; his hand tracing circles on the bed sheets.

“You already did,” Kyungsoo said.

“Again,” Chanyeol softly whined, “Properly.”

“What exactly were you expecting when you came back here?” The younger male countered Chanyeol’s request with a question. And Chanyeol knew it was Kyungsoo’s nervous tick—to change the subject when things were a little difficult to answer.

But why was a question about kissing so difficult? Couldn’t he just say no?

Chanyeol felt warmth in the pit of him stomach.

“I don’t know what I was expecting,” Chanyeol began, “I left in the first place because… I saw you and Yifan hyung come up into Junmyeon’s room and…”

“You were jealous?” Kyungsoo offered; voice laced with disdain. “You thought we were going to kiss and have sex?”

Chanyeol buried his face into the mattress and nodded.

“I hate it.” Chanyeol’s muffled voice came out, “I hate the thought of someone else’s hands on you. I hate the thought of someone other than me making you feel good.”

“We’re not together anymore.” Kyungsoo firmly reminded, but his hand carded gently through Chanyeol’s hair—a contradictory action to his harsh words.

“I know.” Chanyeol said. “It’s my fault.”

Kyungsoo sighed, “Our fault.”

“Do you still not feel anything for me anymore?” Chanyeol turned his head and moved it to lie on Kyungsoo’s knee—his hand rubbing dangerously against Kyungsoo’s thigh.

“I’m not gonna pretend that I was never in love with you,” Kyungsoo ignored Chanyeol’s skinship, even if his breath hitched at the feeling, “And I… never expected either of us to ever be in this situation… meeting again after a long time. I’ve never experienced this before.”

“Me too, Kyungsoo.” Chanyeol said. “Almost everything I’ve done for the first time, I’ve done with you.”

Chanyeol then got up from his position and peeled back the blankets off Kyungsoo. He then lifted the smaller man’s legs up; sat down on the bed then had Kyungsoo’s legs draped over his own.

Kyungsoo remained pliant the whole time.

“Remember when Mrs Lee caught us sneaking off behind the main office building to have a smoke we nabbed from one of the seniors?”

“You mean _you_ got caught smoking because you couldn’t stop coughing after the first puff.” Kyungsoo corrected. “I was _fine_.”

“You still got in trouble though,” Chanyeol pouted.

“And I didn’t speak to you for two whole days.”

“And there was also a time at Yesung hyung’s place—”

“After we started dating, we had to spend time with him before he graduated because we neglected all our friends around that time,” Kyungsoo cut in unintentionally, recalling the same memory.

Chanyeol smirked, “And we almost clogged his toilet with tissues because we had to rub one out.”

Kyungsoo shook his head, scoffing. “Shameless.”

“In love.” Chanyeol corrected. “And a few of our firsts.”

Kyungsoo looked down at his hands on his lap, “I guess we can add _first divorce_ to our list.” And then he looked up at Chanyeol who stared right back at him.

“Only if there will be a second.” Chanyeol said quietly. “Are you planning on marrying Yifan hyung?”

Kyungsoo rolled his eyes, “We never even made it to boyfriend status.”

Chanyeol hummed, “Are you guys… still together?”

“If we were still together, he’d be here right now instead of you.” Kyungsoo said.

“So… so what does that mean?”

Kyungsoo sighed, “I think it’s pretty obvious what that means.”

“Say it.” Chanyeol mumbled. “In plain words, please. So an idiot like me can understand.”

“You’re not an idiot, Chanyeol.” Kyungsoo placed his hand on Chanyeol’s shoulder, rubbing it with his thumb. “We’re not together anymore.” He says anyway, because it’s nothing to dance around anymore. It’s just _certain._ “Stop smiling like that.”

Chanyeol, a smile full of teeth, didn’t listen to Kyungsoo, and smiled even wider.

“This means nothing.” Kyungsoo pointed at Chanyeol warningly.

“It means everything.” Chanyeol countered.

And without warning, Chanyeol leaned in, pressing his lips against Kyungsoo’s. The kiss was brief but when they parted a moment later, breaths mixing, it felt like the first time.

“You didn’t ask me.” Kyungsoo said.

“Whoops.” Chanyeol mused before moving back in to kiss him again.

Kyungsoo’s mouth was warm and he tasted a little sweet, and Chanyeol chuckled a little into it; Kyungsoo and his obsession with fruit flavoured alcohol.

And then abruptly, Kyungsoo pushed Chanyeol back, not too hard, but firm enough to break their lips apart. He brought his hand up to his mouth.

“What?” Chanyeol asked as Kyungsoo’s brows knitted together.

“I feel sick.” Kyungsoo mumbled behind his hand.

“Eh?” Chanyeol said, astonished. “Was it that bad?”

“No, Yeol, I—”

And then it happened.

Kyungsoo threw up right on Chanyeol and his expensive looking dress shirt.

“I’msosorry…” Kyungsoo apologised, mouth full with after vomit bile and saliva.

“Spit,” Chanyeol said, slightly grimacing but looking more sympathetic. “Just here on my shirt, it’s already ruined.”

“I’msorry…” Kyungsoo apologised again, words mixing together. He didn’t know what to do with his hands, but it did look he was going to wipe his vomit off of Chanyeol’s shirt with it, making Chanyeol smile.

“Just spit here,” He said, pointing to his shirt so Kyungsoo can at least clear his mouth. “It’s okay. Unless you want to swallow? You always liked to swallow…” Chanyeol cutely commented.

Kyungsoo glared at Chanyeol before complying and spitting his mouth clear onto Chanyeol’s shirt. “Stop making jokes.” He said.

“I’ll get you a towel.” Chanyeol said, lifting Kyungsoo’s legs off him. Carefully, he made his way to Junmyeon’s en suite, lifting the ends of his shirt to catch anything that would slide down.

Kyungsoo grabbed the bottle of water that Junmyeon left him earlier and opened it. It wasn’t as cold as he would’ve liked it, but at least drinking it tamed his stomach.

He then rolled out of the bed and followed Chanyeol into the en suite.

Chanyeol already had his shirt off and under the tap in the sink. Kyungsoo sat on the closed toilet seat and watched as Chanyeol looked through Junmyeon’s cabinets.

“Pardon the intrusion,” He said to himself as he pulled out a face towel and a packet of toothbrushes. He turned to look at Kyungsoo over his shoulder. “I’m sure he won’t mind if we open this up.”

He then turned off the tap and wrung out his shirt diligently, letting it sit off to the side on the countertop. Afterwards, he opened the packet and pulled out one toothbrush, turning the tap back on and wetting it before adding toothpaste to the bristles.

“Here.” Chanyeol said, moving to kneel in front Kyungsoo. He offered the toothbrush which Kyungsoo took. When Kyungsoo just stayed still, Chanyeol said, “Do you want me to brush your teeth for you?”

Kyungsoo sighed softly, “Don’t baby me,” he commented before brushing his teeth. Chanyeol chuckled, returning back to the sink. He let the tap run again to wet the face towel, but not before waiting until the water was warm.

“You know,” Chanyeol began, squeezing excess water from the towel, “that was actually the first time I’ve ever seen you puke.”

“Ish mah furst time puking in front ob shomeone…” Kyungsoo said, getting up from the toilet seat to stand by Chanyeol near the sink. He spat the paste out before proceeding to brush his tongue.

“Should I be honoured or offended?” Chanyeol asked, taking the liberty to wipe Kyungsoo’s forehead and then the back of his neck with the warm, wet towel. “I mean, you did vomit right after I stuck my tongue in your mouth.”

“I drank more than I should have…”

“No kidding.”

Kyungsoo washed the toothbrush and rinsed his mouth, setting the brush on the counter afterwards. Chanyeol turned off the tap before wiping Kyungsoo’s face completely with the towel—his hand large enough to cover his face completely.

“Stop,” Kyungsoo mumbled, stepping back. “What do you want from me?”

“I think it’s pretty obvious,” Chanyeol said, straightening his back, face all void of emotion.

Kyungsoo swallowed deeply, suddenly feeling small, but only for a fleeting moment. “Tell me. Say it plainly, so an idiot like me can understand.”

“I love you, Kyungsoo.” Chanyeol said without missing a beat. “And what I want from you is to think about it. Think about us. Just us. And think about giving us another chance.”

Kyungsoo’s eyes cast down onto the bathroom tiles; he noticed he was barefoot while Chanyeol had his dress shoes on. He also noticed the lack of stains between the tiles and how blinding it could be to see first thing in the morning.

“Despite everything that’s happened, despite everything I’ve said—”

“Yeah.” Chanyeol breathed, “I was hurt. I healed. I got over it and yet I still feel the same.” He said. “I’m still in love with you. I don’t think I ever stopped to be honest.”

And when Kyungsoo looked back up at him, his cheeks were burning and his eyes were watery.

Chanyeol smiles fondly at the view, “I’m not expecting an answer from you now, I just… I want you to _think_ and _really_ think. And this will be the last time I ask you to, so please…”

Kyungsoo blinked back any tears that threatened to fall and took a deep breath. “What if I already know the answer?”

That seemed to throw Chanyeol in disarray—but any signs of it on his face disappeared as soon as it showed. “If you know, then tell me.” He said—voice a little lower; a little deeper.

He then took a tiny step forward and placed the face towel behind Kyungsoo’s neck and holding it there. “Just know that if you say no to us… please don’t call for me again.”

His hand began to gently massage the back of Kyungsoo’s neck; his large eyes getting watery despite the small smile on his lips.

“Don’t call for me again,” He repeated. “Not even as a friend. Because I’ll never see you as that, no matter how hard I try to... no matter how hard you want me to. And if you need help, call Junmyeon hyung. Or Sehun or Jongin… Call Yifan hyung even… Just don’t call me. Don’t give me a reason to believe that there would be a chance for us again.”

“So it’s either we get back together or have nothing to do with each other at all?” Kyungsoo stated, closing his eyes. He leaned slightly back into Chanyeol’s touch before Chanyeol removed his hand from holding his neck.

“I know I shouldn’t have said that,” Chanyeol began, looking down at the damp towel in his hands. “I know I should’ve just let you choose without an influence but I’m _desperate_ and _so in love_ with you Kyungsoo so I _need_ you to say yes but I also want you to _want_ me. So please, just think about it. Don’t answer me yet. Please think about it.”

Now Chanyeol was crying and Kyungsoo stopped his hands from wiping the tears away. Instead, he bit his bottom lip, shaking his head. “I don’t want…” he started, and Chanyeol sighed sadly.

“Kyungsoo…”

“I _didn’t_ want…” Kyungsoo corrected himself before his hands grabbed onto Chanyeol’s wrists—he needed to hold _something_ ; something to steady him, and Chanyeol fitted the bill. “I didn’t want to get divorced.”

Chanyeol sniffed, “Eh?”

Kyungsoo looked up at Chanyeol, his own eyes getting watery. “I hated you _so much_. I didn’t want to get a divorce, you idiot.” He said through gritted teeth. “It was just _one_ fight. Our _first_ fight. And we got divorced over it!”

“Kyungsoo-ah…”

“We didn’t _listen_ to each other. And I really thought there was no other choice if we couldn’t come to a conclusion. That’s why I signed! But afterwards… I felt like shit… I felt like there could’ve been another way… there’s always another way… And I hate that _our other way_ was to wait three years until someone else merged our paths back together.”

“Soo-ah…”

“What if we never merged? What if it took ten years?” Kyungsoo was on the verge of hyperventilating but he couldn’t stop his words from falling out. So he continued, “I wanted to spend the rest of my life with you, Chanyeol. I was so lonely the last three years thinking things between us could _never_ be the same because you _hated_ me for not wanting children…”

Chanyeol took his wrists away from Kyungsoo’s grasp so he could thumb away the tears that were spilling from Kyungsoo’s eyes. “Kyungsoo, I never hated you.”

“Then why did you file for divorce!” Kyungsoo whined, crying freely. “I signed… because I thought you… didn’t want to… be with me anymore so I …shouldn’t keep you... trapped…” He hiccupped out, tears staining his cheeks and his eyes completely wet that even his lashes were soaked. “So why!”

Chanyeol felt his chest tighten and his heart hurt at the sight; it wasn’t the first time he’s seen Kyungsoo cry, but as he pulled the smaller man into his chest into a tight hug, he hoped it was the last time.

“Because I’m an idiot.” Chanyeol chuckled, kissing the top of Kyungsoo’s head. “But thank you, Kyungsoo-ah… thank you for finally telling me how you feel… I’m so happy.”

Chanyeol rocked Kyungsoo in his arms, swaying their bodies until Kyungsoo’s cries subsided into soft sniffles.

“I woke you up,” Chanyeol soon says. “I’ll let you go back to sleep.”

He then lead Kyungsoo into the room and tucked Kyungsoo back into Junmyeon’s bed—Kyungsoo remaining pliant against Chanyeol’s hands.

Kyungsoo rubbed his eyes until they were red and puffy while Chanyeol brushed back his hair, trying to lull him to sleep.

“Are you going back home?” Kyungsoo soon asked, staring up at Chanyeol who stood tall against the bed.

“Do you want me to go home?”

Kyungsoo’s eyes cast down to Chanyeol’s stomach that was still bare, “Isn’t it late?”

Chanyeol checked the digital clock on the nightstand, “It’s just after one.”

Kyungsoo hummed before his hand reached out from under the blankets and latched onto Chanyeol’s belt buckle.

Without a word, he skilfully undid the belt, pulling it out through the loops and tossing it onto the floor with one hand. He then started working on the button and zipper of Chanyeol’s dress pants, peeling it back until he could see Chanyeol’s boxer briefs.

Rilakkuma.

Kyungsoo chuckled a little. “You can stay, if you want.”

“I want.” Chanyeol said a little too quickly.

Kyungsoo nodded, snapping the band of Chanyeol’s briefs. “Okay. Be comfortable.”

He then shuffled back on the bed to make some room, lifting the blankets up as if to beckon Chanyeol to come in.

Chanyeol wiggled out of his pants and stepped out of his shoes, peeling off his socks too before getting in bed with Kyungsoo.

He reached back to turn off the lampshade before rolling onto his side to face Kyungsoo who looked at him back.

“Can I kiss you again?” Chanyeol asked, remembering to get permission.

Kyungsoo didn’t reply—not with words, at least.

He placed his hand around the back of Chanyeol’s head, gently scratching his scalp. He then moved a little closer—their noses almost touching.

“Soo…” Chanyeol whispers, a little desperate.

“Goodnight.” Kyungsoo says, rubbing his thumb against Chanyeol’s cheekbone. “Get some rest.”

And then he closed his eyes, drifting off to sleep in a position that held Chanyeol close.

 

* * *

 

It was four a.m. when Kyungsoo woke up again. He pulled himself up slowly into a sitting position, rubbing the sleep away from his eyes.

He noticed how there was nothing but silence—the bass of the music no longer vibrating through the walls. He also noticed that there was no glow of lights from underneath the door—everything was essentially as dark as the night that seeped in through the large panned windows.

He could barely see around him, but he sure did feel the arm around his waist.

The blanket had hiked down and off his legs—not that he could see where it went. But he decided it wasn’t a crime to blindly find the body the arm was attached to.

With a gentle touch, Kyungsoo placed his hands over Chanyeol’s arm, tracing along the soft skin and feeling the veins that popped out. He felt Chanyeol’s hand—his shoulder—and concluded that the older male was lying on his stomach.

One hand travelled down the expanse of Chanyeol’s broad back while the other one scratched the base of Chanyeol’s scalp—hair that had been styled stiff with spray now sticking in all sorts of different directions.

Kyungsoo felt along Chanyeol’s flank, feeling the ridges of his ribs—hand rising and falling alongside his breathing before he reached down a little too low. He felt the start of Chanyeol’s boxer briefs and immediately retracted his hand as if he touched fire.

Chanyeol groaned in his sleep, rubbing his face into the pillow and pulling Kyungsoo closer to him by the waist.

Kyungsoo unintentionally let out a small laugh, covering his mouth a moment too late.

“What’s funny,” Chanyeol mumbled, now pressing his face into Kyungsoo’s hip.

“Nothing, go back to sleep,” Kyungsoo patted Chanyeol’s head.

“You go back to sleep.”

“Okay,”

Kyungsoo slid back to lie down on the bed facing Chanyeol who made sure to keep his grip tight on Kyungsoo's waist as he moved. Kyungsoo then started to brush back Chanyeol’s hair with his fingers, attempting to lull the taller man back to sleep.

Instead, it just made Kyungsoo realise something.

He narrowed his eyes, trying to see the details of Chanyeol’s face in the darkness. It was no use, not unless he wanted to give himself a headache trying to make out his features, but he found himself thumbing lightly over Chanyeol’s closed eyes, nose, cheek… And that was maybe enough for now—to see without seeing.

Soon, Kyungsoo felt Chanyeol smile, and he traced over that too.

And then Kyungsoo said, “I don’t think I stopped either.”

The arm around his waist drew him in closer, “Stopped what?”

“You already know.” Kyungsoo said.

“Hmm, I don’t.” Chanyeol hummed, his hand tracing nonsense against Kyungsoo’s lower back.

“Do you… really need to hear it?” Kyungsoo mumbled, feeling the tips of his ears burn up.

“How else will I know?” Chanyeol said.

“Can you open your eyes?” Kyungsoo sighed, rolling over to turn on the lampshade on the bedside table on his side of the bed. He heard Chanyeol chuckle at that.

“I’m awake.” Chanyeol yawned just as Kyungsoo resettled back in his position. “You were saying?”

Kyungsoo bit his inner cheek, eyes looking at Chanyeol’s chin. He then glanced a little bit up and stared at Chanyeol’s lips before diving in for a kiss.

Their lips locked, moving against each other naturally and soon, the kiss became a heated, wet mess; tongues clashing and teeth clicking—moans escaping from them both in soft sounds that filled the room.

Chanyeol brought his hand up to hold onto the back of Kyungsoo’s head as he automatically moved his body to hover over Kyungsoo’s; legs bracketing his thighs. Kyungsoo threaded his fingers through Chanyeol’s hair, hips bucking up into Chanyeol’s crotch before yanking Chanyeol’s head back to break the kiss.

“Ow…” Chanyeol grimaced and Kyungsoo let go of his hair, allowing him to press their foreheads together.

“Sorry,” Kyungsoo breathed out, “I’m suddenly horny.”

Chanyeol giggled, “Me too.”

“But that’s not… that’s not what I mean.” Kyungsoo said, closing his eyes and taking in deep breaths. “I mean—I _meant_ to say… I love you too.”

“You do?” Chanyeol said against Kyungsoo’s lips.

“I do,” Kyungsoo said, kissing him again. “I…”

Chanyeol hummed, brushing their noses together, “Yes?”

Kyungsoo swallowed, feeling his heart thump hard and loud against his chest. “You’re too close, I can’t think properly.”

“That’s okay,” Chanyeol assured, rubbing out the hard lines off of Kyungsoo’s forehead with his thumbs. “Don’t think, just say. I’ll listen.”

“Um…” Kyungsoo began, slowly opening his eyes he hadn’t even noticed he closed in the first place. And it didn’t help that Chanyeol was staring right back at him, and he was sure he could see the blush forming on his cheeks, and Kyungsoo wasn’t sure why he was suddenly embarrassed; he did throw up on him earlier—it _can’t_ get any more embarrassing than that. So he took another deep breath, inhaling Chanyeol’s scent, before saying, “I want… to wake up with you next to me again. Every morning. And I want you to sleep by my side every night.”

“That can be arranged,” Chanyeol said.

“I’m talking,” Kyungsoo mumbled, and Chanyeol chuckled. “I… want to visit you again at your studio, bringing you lunch that I cooked… and I want to hold your hand and sing your songs again and perform at your concerts and hang out with you and Sehun and Jongin...”

Chanyeol just nodded the whole time; eyes silently letting Kyungsoo know he was taking in every word he said.

He continued, “But… I don’t want everything to go back to how it was. I don’t… want us to be married again. I don’t want us to be in our own little bubble where we didn’t even tell our parents we got married for a whole year… Or how we dealt with problems on our own or where we shut out our friends who care about us very much.”

“Okay, okay,” Chanyeol said, thumbs wiping at Kyungsoo’s eyes. Was he crying again? Kyungsoo didn’t know.

He could only see Chanyeol as clear as day.

“I miss how we used to be,” Kyungsoo said. “But I don’t—who you were three years ago—I’m not in love with him anymore. But the you _now_ , the hardworking, patient and honest you—the one who gives his all and fights for what he wants and takes care of everyone before himself—who thinks about everyone before himself—the one who can change and accept things the best way he knows how to without losing sight of who he is—that’s who I’m in love with now. The _you right now_.”

“I’m still flawed,” Chanyeol replied, “I’m still impatient and I still can’t accept things as easily as you say.”

“But you’re selfless, and you’re growing.” Kyungsoo countered. “I wish I was like you—I complained to you how you… were still the same. But it’s me who hasn’t changed. Can you still love me? Can you still love me even if I’m like this?” And it almost sounded like he was begging Chanyeol—like how Chanyeol begged him earlier.

Not that it was necessarily a bad thing...

But this was it; this is how Chanyeol knew— _he does love me back._

“You’re not the same, Kyungsoo.” Chanyeol began. “We’re both different now. And that’s okay. And it’s okay if you can’t see the change in you, because you have me to notice it all. You have me looking at you, and I know for a fact that you have changed. Because you’re telling me these things about you that I never thought I’d get to hear. You’re telling me how you feel—what you want and what you don’t want…”

“I must’ve been a difficult husband to love back then, right?” Kyungsoo said, cupping Chanyeol’s cheek. “If I never told you how I felt as much as I should’ve back then—it must've been hard?”

Chanyeol smiled, “You were a great husband, for my first.”

Kyungsoo smiled back after a bear, “Are you planning for a second one?”

Chanyeol hummed, dipping his head down to plant a long, chaste kiss. “He doesn’t want to get married.”

“Sounds like a pain,” Kyungsoo said.

“I can deal with it.”

And then they continued to kiss—hands, tongues, everything—all the motions melted into a mix of wet smacks of their lips and soft moans. Soon, Kyungsoo’s borrowed sweats were discarded on the floor somewhere and Chanyeol’s boxer briefs were being kicked down and off his legs.

“I don’t have anything,” Chanyeol gasped, rubbing his cock against Kyungsoo’s bare hip. “I really wanna…”

“I know,” Kyungsoo nodded, mouth salivating at the feeling of Chanyeol’s hardness against his skin. “Maybe… maybe Junmyeon hyung…”

“Don’t say another man’s name right now, Kyungsoo-ah…” Chanyeol whined, gently biting Kyungsoo’s lip. Kyungsoo rolled his eyes.

“Check the drawers,” He said instead of arguing. “Quickly,”

Chanyeol groaned, kissing Kyungsoo hard before rolling off him to search the bedside table’s drawer.

Nothing.

And there was nothing in the drawers that were closer to Kyungsoo either when he checked.

Kyungsoo flopped back onto his back, covering his eyes and letting out a laugh. Chanyeol, however, was feeling a little more than frustrated at the predicament.

“Of course he wouldn’t have anything.” He mumbled, but still moved to latch his lips against the crook of Kyungsoo’s neck.

“Stop,” Kyungsoo giggled, feeling ticklish. “We can’t do anything… unless…?”

Chanyeol lifted his head up to gaze down at Kyungsoo. “Unless…?” Kyungsoo just gave him a look. And then Chanyeol’s cheeks and ears grew red. “A-ah! We can’t!” He quickly denied, shaking his head, even though his eyes and face said otherwise.

“Why?” Kyungsoo asked. “It’s not like we haven’t before…”

“Ahhhhhhhhhh, but that was different!” Chanyeol suddenly sat up, hugging his knees to his chest—dick probably still hard.

“How was that different?” Kyungsoo propped his upper body up on his elbows, cocking his head to the side but smiling at how sheepishly cute Chanyeol was being.

“Because!” Chanyeol said. “You weren’t—you weren’t… with anyone…”

The light bulb clicked in Kyungsoo’s head. “Ah.”

Chanyeol just nodded at that response. “S-So we… we can’t.” He said, pouting.

Kyungsoo hummed. “Are you jealous?” Chanyeol stared at him, a little dumbfounded at the question, but at the same time, giving Kyungsoo the answer he suspected. “You can’t be jealous, Chanyeol. We weren’t together.”

“But… we are now?” Chanyeol asked, and he felt a little stupid asking that, but then again, it wasn’t exactly _confirmed_ either. And with all the reassuring they did all night, it wouldn’t hurt for a little more.

But instead of answering Chanyeol’s question, Kyungsoo asked, “Do you want to be together?”

“Well… we—we _love—_ “

“Because I want us to be together.” Kyungsoo said, interrupting him. “If you want to be together.”

“As boyfriends?” Chanyeol asked, making Kyungsoo laugh.

“As boyfriends, or partners, or lovers… or all… whatever you wanna call us, we’ll be.” Kyungsoo said. “It doesn’t matter to me, as long as we’re it together.”

Chanyeol scratched the back of his head, “S-so, we’re like, dating?”

Kyungsoo’s eyebrows narrowed.

_We’ve confessed our love for each other, forgiven each other, aren’t dating anyone else, was making out for the better part of an hour and was almost about to have sex and he’s asking if we’re…_

But as Kyungsoo looked at the curiosity and the worry in Chanyeol’s eyes, he couldn’t help but smile again and reach his hand out to caress his face. “Yes, we’re dating. If you want us to be.”

“I want.” Chanyeol said quickly.

“Okay, boyfriend.” Kyungsoo said, making Chanyeol grin so widely.

But then that grin disappeared and Chanyeol’s expression fell serious. “Well, as your boyfriend, I’m jealous. I have a right to be jealous!”

“It’s not attractive, Chanyeol.” Kyungsoo said, dropping his hand away from Chanyeol’s face. He sat upright too, pushing his hair back against his head. “I don’t like it.”

“I can’t help how I feel.” Chanyeol pouted, bringing his knees in closer to his chest and leaning his chin on top. “Just the _thought_ of—“

“Of what?” Kyungsoo interjected. “The thought of Yifan hyung touching me? Holding me and _fucking_ me? It makes you feel what?”

“Stop,” Chanyeol sat straight, rising bigger than Kyungsoo as if to assert himself. “I’m gonna get mad.”

“You’re already mad.” Kyungsoo said calmly. “Stop feeling jealous, Yeol. I said I don’t like it.”

“And I don’t like that he…” Chanyeol had to close his eyes and take a deep breath. And the sight of that alone made Kyungsoo’s heart jump (as well as his dick).

“Did I say that he touched me? The way that you’ve touched me?” Kyungsoo asked, voice deeper, but gentler. He placed a hand on Chanyeol’s knee, rubbing it with his thumb.

“Eh?”

Kyungsoo sighed softly, “From the time I lost my virginity to you when we were fifteen until now—age twenty-four—I’ve never… It’s only ever been you.” And now he was feeling a bit shy, holding the ends of Junmyeon’s shirt that he borrowed and stretching it down to cover himself up.

“Really?” Chanyeol said, relaxing limbs that were tense.

“Really.” Kyungsoo confirmed. “So don’t… don’t be jealous, Chanyeol. I don’t like you being jealous when you don’t have to. It makes me sad.”

And now Chanyeol was going to make it his mission to forget all the times he ever felt jealous because now _it didn’t matter_. Now, he had Kyungsoo—and now…

“Can we kiss again?” Chanyeol asked. Kyungsoo smiled, framing Chanyeol’s face with his hands.

“Yeah.”

 

* * *

 

Kyungsoo wasn’t sure why he was suddenly self-conscience of the noises he was making—or of the sound of the headboard banging against the wall—or of the rhythmic squeak of the mattress underneath him—but he wanted the sounds to _stop_.

He wanted silence. He _needed_ it. Or else, he’d combust under the rough grip of Chanyeol’s hands on his hips as the said male pounded into him from behind—hard, _fast_.

Kyungsoo was salivating, his drool pooling onto the pillow, and he couldn’t help but think, “ _Junmyeon’s gonna be so mad.”_ And he knew he shouldn’t be thinking about another man, not when he was with Chanyeol—especially in this position and situation, but there was a part of him that was scared to let himself fall deep into _all things him._

His ears were already full of Chanyeol moaning his name—his skin was littered in marks that proved Chanyeol was there—Chanyeol’s hands sure to bruise his waist and his body—it took _his shape_ and was _full of him_.

It was too much.

But the other part of him—the part that _wanted_ _more_ , was slowly taking over the part that still had its reservations.

He kind of wished it already did that.

“Chanyeol,” Kyungsoo gasped out, forcing himself out of his head and into the moment. His stomach roiled; his dick leaking, and his hands threatened to tear the pillow cases apart. “Chanyeol!”

“Yes, baby?” Chanyeol whispered, leaning his chest over Kyungsoo’s back. “What is it?”

“I need...”

“What do you need?”

Kyungsoo groaned at a particularly hard thrust Chanyeol gave him, his mind falling into disarray. “F…faster. Go faster…” He huffed out, reaching around to hold onto Chanyeol, but the position they were in proved difficult. That made Kyungsoo involuntarily whine.

Chanyeol kissed Kyungsoo’s shoulder, chuckling before pulling out. “Turn over onto your back.”

Kyungsoo gulped in a deep breath, staying in his obscene position where his ass was sticking up and dripping wet. “You stopped…” He said. “Why?”

His mind clearly wasn’t catching up with what he was hearing.

Gently, Chanyeol moved Kyungsoo to lie on his back before spreading his lover’s legs apart and massaging his inner thighs. “Does it hurt anywhere?” Chanyeol asked.

“Here,” Kyungsoo pointed at his dick—an angry shade of red and glistening under the dim light of the lampshade.

“I’ll kiss it better then,” Chanyeol said, leaning down to press his lips against the head.

Kyungsoo sighed sweetly; one hand threaded softly through Chanyeol’s hair as his other hand tugged at the roots of his own hair. “Don’t do that,” He eventually gasped out. “I don’t—I want—“

“I got it,” Chanyeol said, tonguing the shaft before mouthing the top of Kyungsoo’s dick a little more lovingly.

“Ahhhhhh, Chanyeolie…” Kyungsoo groaned, hips bucking up.

“It’s okay if you come like this,” Chanyeol said, taking Kyungsoo’s hand out of his hair and holding onto it instead.

“I don’t want to come like this,” Kyungsoo complained, attempting (very weakly) to pull Chanyeol back up for a kiss.

“You’re so cute, Kyungsoo-ah.” Chanyeol commented, kissing up Kyungsoo’s bare chest until their lips met again in a sloppy, wet kiss. “I love you.”

“I love you,” Kyungsoo repeated in the same breath.

Chanyeol giggled, hands sliding down underneath Kyungsoo’s thighs. He then pushed them back slowly before sliding himself back inside, relishing in the sounds of Kyungsoo’s ragged breaths and low moans.

And then without warning, he started fucking Kyungsoo faster, as requested.

 

* * *

 

It was almost seven a.m. when Kyungsoo and Chanyeol decided to leave Junmyeon’s room—Junmyeon’s house—and head back to the dorms.

Kyungsoo had driven to the house but Chanyeol sat behind the wheel; Kyungsoo was passed out in the passenger’s seat wearing the same clothes he had borrowed from Junmyeon earlier (minus the underwear).

Before leaving though, they stripped the sheets and blankets off of Junmyeon’s bed and took it with them, understanding how that alone could be interpreted. They also tidied up as much as they could—after their first round, there was two more, and not necessarily done on Junmyeon’s bed.

Not that their boss would know about _where_ in the room the other two times were, but at least the room looked clean.

And as soon as they settled in Kyungsoo’s car, Kyungsoo fell asleep almost immediately, giving Chanyeol the duty of buckling him in safely and driving them back.

It would take an hour or so, and by then, he knew most of the others would be awake by then, considering how only the guests and some of the rookies spent the night at Junmyeon’s house (asides from them, of course). How they would explain themselves to the others? He wasn't quite sure. But what he was sure of is that he wouldn't have to explain everything on his own.

As Chanyeol focused on the road, his heart pounded strongly against his chest and his stomach filled up with butterflies. During red lights, he’d look over at Kyungsoo and remember the first time he woke up next to Kyungsoo the day after they got married—or even earlier this morning when he woke up and Kyungsoo was still there by his side. 

It was a feeling of contentment—maybe also a little bit of euphoria. 

Chanyeol loved this feeling, and can only wish he will never stop feeling this way.

He soon snapped out of his thoughts when he heard a suddenly barrage of _pings_ coming from Kyungsoo’s phone that sat near the gear shift. Curiously, Chanyeol checked the notifications to see that Kyungsoo received a bunch of text messages from Baekhyun and Jongdae.

Smiling to himself, he let it be, resuming his focus back onto the road when the lights turned green.

He felt a different kind of warmth bloom inside him at the thought of Kyungsoo having Baekhyun and Jongdae in his life—the lively beagles that would text him multiple times this early in the morning. 

Kyungsoo may have been lonely all these years, but he was never alone. Not truly. Not when Kyungsoo had these people in his life to fill whatever void he may have felt.

And Baekhyun and Jongdae, despite not  _knowing_ how to help, did help. 

A part of what helped Kyungsoo get through the years was due to them just  _being there_. And that alone was enough. Just as Chanyeol had Sehun and Jongin, Kyungsoo had Baekhyun and Jongdae.

 _Still_ have Baekhyun and Jongdae. 

Chanyeol was suddenly overcome with overwhelming gratefulness—he was going to treat them to a nice meal the next chance he got. 

“Are we almost home?” Kyungsoo suddenly spoke. His eyes were still closed and his head still leaned up against the window—arms crossed over his chest.

Chanyeol smiled, taking one hand off the wheel to pat Kyungsoo’s thigh. “Yeah, almost.” He answered. “Won’t be long now.”

It was a white lie—they were at least over half an hour away from the dorms, and traffic wasn’t as kind to them as Chanyeol would’ve liked.

But really, sitting side by side, they already were home.

So technically, he spoke the truth.

 

**Author's Note:**

> thank you to everyone who encouraged me, supported me, and waited for me. i hope this ending was to your liking. :)  
>    
> 
> 
> there is still a little more after this, but this was just part of the story that couldn't be told through sns and text. but regardless, i still hope it was enjoyable to read. thank you all again. ♡


End file.
